(I Am) Frozen
by ProvenTitaniumObsidian
Summary: "ALFIE, NO!" "He doesn't believe in magic anymore," "Nothin's in my way!" "Enough, Alfred." "Arendelle is..." When the King and Queen of picturesque Arendelle die in a storm, the reclusive Crown Prince Arthur ascends to the throne. However, Arthur's past is irrevocably entwined with his younger brother, Alfred, and magic. (Re-telling of Frozen with Hetalia characters)


Okay, so I know that you haven't heard from me in a while… (heh, understatement).

Just wanted to let you know that I'm REALLY SORRY for the delay. RL has been a bitch.

BUT, I wanted to get started with the story ideas I've had floating around for months! One of which is a Hetalia x Frozen AU crossover ('cause why not?).

Peace and Happy Livings!

P.T.O. ~ Neko x

(X)

A humble castle, built of wood, nestled in a deep fjord. The soft moonlight casts an ethereal glow over the water, and glints off the deep-paned windows. All is silent. In this castle live the King and Queen of the town, Arendelle, and their two sons, Alfred and Arthur; as well as numerous servants, butlers and chefs for the slumbering Royal family.

Except on this night, this _particular_ night, not all of the Royals are asleep.

"Arthur." The young boy doesn't stir, nestled deep in his blankets.

"Hey, Artie! Wake up! _Psst!_ WAKE UP."

The (formerly) asleep boy turns over in bed, cracking open a single verdant eye to glare threateningly at the annoyance next to him. He raises one of his large eyebrows in silent condemnation.

"Go back to sleep, Alfred."

"But I _can't!"_ The figure of a second boy climbs up and over Arthur and purposefully spreads his weight on his brother, lying on his back and staring at the ceiling. "The sky's still awake, so _I'm_ awake, so we _have_ to play!" The younger boy leans back down to smile brightly into Arthur's half-asleep face. "Right?"

"No, not right," Arthur turns again sharply, sending Alfred tumbling off of him and onto the floor, "Go play by yourself!"

"Aww!" Alfred sits on the floor, the very picture of dejection. The curl at the front of his hair droops despondently, and he lets out another exaggerated sigh, before peeking through his fringe to see his older brother's reaction. Nothing.

Alfred huffs again, this time in frustration, before pouting heavily in thought. Then, his face lights up.

"Hey, Arthur?" He asks, climbing on top of him once more, and pulling at an eyebrow. "Do you wanna build a snowman?"

A green eye opens again, in glee, and the two boys grin.

Alfred, now wearing snow boots slightly too big, pulls his brother by the hand, down the wide sweeping staircases, and through the empty halls.

"Come on, come on, come on!" He cries excitedly, ignoring Arthur's frantic shushing.

Before long, they reach a familiar ballroom, the moonlight streaming in through the wide windows and casting inky shadows on the walls. Alfred turns to his older brother in anticipation as Arthur goes to shut the heavy ballroom doors.

"Do the magic, Artie! Do the magic!" He giggles. Arthur laughs with him, and slowly begins to draw patterns with his hands, sending icy green spirals and snowflakes spinning from his hands, as a snowball begins to form from thin air. Alfred's face lights up in delight.

Glancing up at Alfred's shining face, Arthur's smile widens, and he throws the snowball up, up into the air and it bursts like ice fireworks. Flurries of white snow drift and dance across the room, sending Alfred spinning to catch the snowflakes in his hands and mouth. "This is amazing!" He yells.

Arthur's almost hesitant face lightens in relief, and his chuckles again under his breath, before calling, "Watch this!"

Arthur stomps his small slipper-covered foot and a layer of green sea-ice spreads across the floor, coating the marble and forming a giant ice rink. Alfred slides about, laughing with glee.

Through the long night, the boys play together and Arthur forgets about his former tiredness and the time of day, enjoying spending so much time with his little brother. They roll together giant snowballs and build a snowman. Arthur frowns at it playfully before clicking his fingers and shouting, "Aha!"

He carefully crafts long snowy hair for the snowman and grins, before turning to Alfred and waving the stick arms. Clearing his throat, he says in his best accent, "Bonjour, I'm Francis and I like warm-"

He's cut off by Alfred jumping up and hugging him hard, "I love him, Artie! He looks like that guy that comes over from the mainland, the one you don't like!"

Arthur blushes lightly, and hugs him back, "So you noticed, huh?"

"Yep! But, you still did an awesome job!" Alfred and Francis begin dancing across the room, with Arthur moving Francis and sometimes Alfred with his magic.

They then start to build massive snow slides and race each other to the bottom with glee.

Alfred fearlessly jumps off a snow column into mid-air. "Catch me, Artie!"

"Gotcha!" Arthur cries, as he forms another snow peak underneath Alfred. The smaller boy giggles and does it again, Arthur catching him once more.

Alfred gets higher and higher, jumping faster and faster, and Arthur begins to get frightened.

"Alfred, I can't keep up!"

Alfred goes again, ignoring the warning in favour of having too much fun. "Again, again!"

"Slow down!" Arthur yells, and suddenly slips. The last bolt of green ice magic had already left his hand, and struck Alfred in the head.

"ALFIE, NO!" Arthur shrieks as Alfred tumbles off a snowbank and lands unconscious on the floor; Arthur scrambles toward him and lifts him into his arms. The large curl at Alfred's fringe turns white, and continues in a streak to the crown of his hair.

The eight year old's eyes widen in horror, and he screams again for his parents. "MAMA! PAPA! HELP!" His ice magic begins to spin out of control, filling the room with dangerous dark green ice spikes, as the sound of banging on the shaking doors begins to echo.

His parents, the King and Queen, finally manage to burst through the frozen doors, and gasp at the appearance of the room.

His father begins to stride forwards in anger, "Arthur, what have you done?! This is getting far out of hand-"

"Alfie!" The Queen shouts in alarm, catching sight of the too-pale boy in the arms of his brother.

"I'm so sorry! It was an accident, I didn't mean it… Alfie…" Arthur begins to sob in shock and fear as the King and Queen take Alfred from his arms. The Queen's gaze is focused only on her five year old son.

"He's ice cold!" She whimpers in fear. The King's worried brow straightens in resignation.

"I know where we must go."

The King leafs through many a stack of books as Arthur sits in the corner, doing the same. Eventually, they find an ancient, crumbling book inscribed with Norse Runes; the King sifts through it and scrambles for an old map hidden in the pages.

With the King carrying Alfred and Arthur riding behind his mother, the family ride their horses out of Arendelle. Snow swirls in bright patterns from Arthur's hands, and it streams behind them in an icy green trail; Arthur clenches his fists shut in fright.

A small boy of eight years travels through the woods with his reindeer companion. All of a sudden, the King and Queen race past, a wake of ice and snowflakes flying to the ground behind them.

"Ice?" He asks himself, as he looks to the steadily fading horses.

"Faster, Gil!" The young boy cries, as he rides the reindeer along the trail of snow in pursuit of the figures he saw gallop past.

The boy climbs down off his reindeer friend as the trail stops at the edge of a deep valley. They walk together and hide behind a large rock as the Queen comes into view, holding the hand of a terrified Arthur. The King is beside them, Alfred still unconscious and cradled in his arms.

"Please, help," He calls out, desperately, "My son!"

A sudden fall of rocks tumble from the top of the valley, stopping just shy of the Royals, and unfold to reveal the faces of rock trolls.

"Trolls…?" The unknown boy whispers, his shining eyes open wide in amazement, even as the rock just in front of his wriggles and unfolds into a troll itself. She turns and shushes the boy playfully, "I'm trying to listen!"

He quickly apologises before flinching as she grabs them both and hugs them close, peering thoughtfully at the pair. "Cuties," she declares happily, "I'm gonna keep you."

Back at the valley floor, the crowd of rock trolls parts to reveal a troll as old as the Earth. He is called Grandpa Roma by many, and as he slowly approaches the King his family, he nods respectfully.

"Your Majesty," he says to the King, before peering at the wide-eyed child standing next to the Queen. "Born with the powers, or cursed?"

"Born," The King replies, worriedly, "And they're getting stronger."

The old troll nods gravely, and gestures for Alfred to be brought closer to him. After carefully examining the consequences of Arthur's magic on Alfred, he speaks carefully to the King. "You are lucky that it wasn't his heart. The heart is not so easily changed, but the head can be persuaded."

"Do what you must." Says the King, not liking the words coming from the troll's mouth.

Grandpa Roma sighs, "I recommend we remove all magic, even the memories to be safe. But don't worry, I'll leave the fun."

Grandpa Roma pulls the energy from Alfred's mind for the family to see. It glistens red, white and blue in the dim light of the valley, and Arthur watches as Alfred's memories are changed. From creating snowmen with his magic, the scenes change to building them outside in winter. All the magic is removed from his head.

_"He doesn't believe in magic anymore," _Arthur realises, and a single crystalline tear drops down his cheek and falls to the snowy ground, _"And he never will again."_

The tear freezes before it hits the floor, and shatters like stardust.


End file.
